


To Know What It Would Feel Like

by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx



Series: Love Is A Mixtape [1]
Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Pining, Shirbert, canon divergence (I guess?), takes place sometime after 3x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx/pseuds/xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx
Summary: "I hope that you don't think I'm rude, but I want to make out with you-- and I'm a little awkward, sure-- but I could touch my face to yours..."ORAnne is horrified after she has a dream about kissing Gilbert and then subsequently can't stop thinking about it. [now part of a series, but can definitely be read as a stand alone!]
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Series: Love Is A Mixtape [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651741
Comments: 65
Kudos: 576





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends-- thanks for clicking on my story!
> 
> I haven't written fan faction in a terribly long time, but I was listening to "Bad Ideas" by Tessa Violet the other day and couldn't stop imagining some of the lines as Shirbert scenes so I wrote them down.
> 
> If you're familiar with the song, you might recognize a line or two I borrowed from it to incorporate into this. If you're not, 10/10 would recommend giving it a listen!

Anne hadn't meant for it to happen.

In fact, if she'd had any say the matter at all, she was more or less certain that she wouldn't have willingly chosen for her mind to conjure up images of her and a certain curly haired, hazel eyed academic rival locked in a romantic embrace.

The trouble with brains, however, is that you could perhaps control where your mind wandered when you were awake. The same couldn't necessarily be said for when you were lying in slumber.

Which is how Anne came to find herself feeling incredibly betrayed by her own subconscious— three weeks after The Incident had taken place.

Three weeks ago was the first time Anne had ever dreamt of Gilbert Blythe.

Three weeks however, much to her chagrin, had still not been long enough to quell the memory of the dream that wouldn’t stop haunting her— or to stop the dream from warping into a desire she never realized she had…

—

_"I'll never get it right!" She bemoaned as she yet again missed the same step she’d been forgetting all afternoon._

_"Sure you will,” said Gilbert, amusement tinging his reply as he watched her pout. “Practice makes perfect--let's go again!”_

_They were on their second count of eight the next time Anne spoke._

_"Don't you think it seems silly?"_

_"What seems silly?"_

_“Well…you know, to practice a dance meant for a group of six with just two people,” Anne said as they started setting. “We can't even sweep through raised arms to form another set."_

_"That's probably for the best,” said Gilbert as he took both her hands in his._

_"Why do you say that?” Anne asked as they turned together._

_"Because, Carrots,” started Gilbert._

_They should have moved on to the next step by now, but Gilbert had yet to let go of Anne’s hands._

_“I don't want to form another set with anyone else— I only want to dance with you."_

_Anne rolled her eyes over his declaration, a smile tugging at her lips._

_“What, you don't believe me?" He asked._

_His hands were on her waist now and Anne wasn’t sure how they’d gotten there. She didn’t have time to think too hard about it though, because suddenly, his fingers grazed against a spot there that caused Anne to jerk back at his touch._

_"Why, miss Shirley Cuthbert,” said Gilbert, smiling so hard Anne feared his face would split in two. “You never told me you were ticklish…”_

_“Gilbert, don't you dare…”_

_Her warning fell on deaf ears as he reached towards her waist again. That's when she took off, sprinting across the field, giggling as she went._

_She didn't make it far before she felt a pair of hands looping around her middle and pulling her back._

_"Gotcha!" He whispered in her ear before mercilessly tickling her sides._

_Anne squirmed, laughter tumbling from her lips as she tried to break free from her captor. The only thing she succeeded in doing, however was sending both herself and Gilbert tumbling to the ground._

_She'd landed on top of him amidst the fall, and her first thought was that she should probably get off— only Gilbert's hands were still firmly on her waist and his grip was only serving to keep her closely pressed to his warm body._

_"I mean it Anne,” he said, eyes steadily gazing into hers. “I only want to dance with you— I only ever want to dance with you."_

_Her breath caught in her throat as one of his hands left her waist to reach out and tuck a loose tendril of red hair behind her ear._

_Slowly, that same hand moved to the back of her neck, gently guiding her face closer until she could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke his next words to her._

_"I only ever want to do this with you, too...” he whispered before his lips finally touched hers._

_Her fingers clenched at the material of the shirt stretched across his chest, and Gilbert used the hand at her waist to pull her flush against him while his other hand traveled up from her neck to tangle in her hair._

_She gasped when he swiftly flipped them so that Anne’s back was pressed against the soft earth instead, and Gilbert seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue tangling with hers for just a moment before he pulled his mouth off leaving Anne struggling to catch her breath._

_Anne stared at him through half-lidded eyes, wondering why he’d stopped when she didn’t want him to. She tried to pull him back now, using the fingers she’d at some point dug into the curls at the back of his head._

_Gilbert had other plans though, bypassing her swollen lips in favor of planting a soft kiss at corner of her jaw._

_And just as Gilbert began trailing a line of searing kisses down the column of her neck…_

Anne woke up with a start— heart racing, breath shallow, lips tingling…

The dream had felt so real that in her drowsy, half-awake state-- just for a moment-- she was convinced it _was_ real.

She'd shot up then, caught in an internal tug-of-war where half of her felt horrified she'd ever dreamt of her and Gilbert in such a scenario to begin with. The other half of her was currently grappling with the terrifying notion that if she were being truly honest with herself, there was a small part of her that couldn’t deny that she’d _liked it_.

She rubbed her eyes vigorously as flashes of the dream danced before her eyes. When that did nothing to wipe away the thought of Dream Anne and Dream Gilbert kissing, she resigned to get ready for school. Her hands trembled as she hastily braided her hair and struggled over buttoning up her dress, but at least struggling with mundane tasks forced her to focus all of her attention on getting ready instead of allowing her mind any leeway to wander….

By the time Anne was washing up after breakfast, she was all but convinced she'd squashed The Incident from memory-- that is until she whirled around, clean dishes in hand and suddenly found herself starting at the very person she’d been trying so hard _not_ to think about.

Gilbert Blythe was in her kitchen— why was Gilbert Blythe in her kitchen?

Anne squeezed her eyes shut convinced she must be imagining his presence due to the fact that she had not been able to completely erase the feel of the dream she'd woken from just a few hours ago.

He can’t have really been there standing in front of her— it just didn’t seem right that he could be taking up so much physical space in her kitchen when he was already taking up way too much space in her head…

 _I’m going to count to three and when I open my eyes, he’ll be gone…_ Anne thought to herself, gripping the plates in her hands tightly. _One….two…thr—-_

"Anne...?" Gilbert asked tentatively.

The sound of her name leaving his lips was accompanied by a warm hand landing on her shoulder.

Gilbert’s touch was soft— not meant to startle— but to Anne, it felt like an electric current coursing through her body and before she knew it, she’d dropped the dishes she’d so tightly been gripping just moments before.

"Good heavens child-- what's happened?!"

Marilla had raced back in following the distinct sound of ceramic breaking as it hit the floor, and the shrill of her voice was enough to make Anne snap her eyes open.

She stared at Gilbert’s face with wide eyes for a second and she felt her face flush— for once, not because she was embarrassed about how clumsy she’d just been.

She was thankful for Marilla’s firm grip on her elbow as she pulled her back from the sharp shards strewn across the floor as it allowed her a brief reprieve from dealing with Gilbert’s presence.

"I'm sorry Marilla! I don't know what's got into me this morning," Anne said, cheeks heating further.

"It's my fault, Miss Cuthbert-- I'm afraid I might have startled Anne here-- I assumed she'd heard me knock on the door before I entered," said Gilbert quickly, eyes darting toward the redhead in question.

"You're not fully to blame, Gilbert," said Marilla tightly. "Anne ought to be more aware of her surroundings instead of getting wrapped up in her vivid imagination."

Marilla's comment made Anne flush even harder, and a pang of dread coursed through her at Marilla’s comment about her vivid imagination.

For just a moment she feared that perhaps Marilla, just by looking at her face, might be able to suss out the fact thatAnne had been scatterbrained this morning because she was having improper thoughts about the young man currently standing in their kitchen.

That try as she might, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what it had felt like

when Dream Gilbert’s lips had descended on her own, one large hand tangling in her red hair as he…

_No— NO. We’re not thinking about that anymore!_ Anne said sternly to herself in her head.

She might not have said the words aloud, but she’d accompanied them with a vigorous shake of her head, and Gilbert shot her an odd sort of look as he watched her braids whip back and forth from the motion of it all.

"What are you doing here anyway?”Anne blurted out. "Don't you have advanced studies with Miss Stacy this morning?"

" _Anne_!" Marilla scolded, no doubt displeased with the rude tone in her daughter's voice.

"It's alright Miss Cuthbert," said Gilbert quickly.

“I do usually have advanced studies in the mornings, but I asked Miss Stacy if we could reschedule today’s coursework,” said Gilbert, speaking to Anne now.

“I know you said you needed those apples by today to make those pies for the church bake sale, Miss Cuthbert,” he said, turning now to face the older woman. “Normally I would have had Bash drop them off, but he’s a bit tied up at the moment with some errands in Charlottetown so I figured I’d better bring them by myself.”

 _“_ My, that’s very thoughtful of you Gilbert!” Marilla preened, shooting the young man a kind smile.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he said smiling back. “I’ve left the bushels tied to my horse— would it be alright if I left him here for the day while I went to school? I can pick him up after.”

“Of course! I’ll have Matthew put him up in the stable with Belle,” said Marilla. “You two run along to school now— don’t worry about unloading the apples Gilbert— Matthew and Jerry can take care of that!”

“But Marilla, surely I should stay behind and take care of the mess I made,” said Anne quickly, desperately hoping Marilla would agree so she might avoid having to walk in such close proximity to Gilbert given her current predicament. “I’m sure I can clean all this up and still make it in time for school!”

 _“_ Nonsense! I’ll not have you risk being late— you may help with washing up after dinner later tonight if you’re feeling guilty about this morning,” said Marilla as she pressed Anne’s books and lunch into her arms. “Now, you two best be off— we’ll see you this afternoon.”

Anne stood stock still on the porch after Marilla had ushered her out the back door and closed it shut.

Gilbert cleared his throat next to her and when her eyes shot up to meet his she noticed his expressive eyebrows already beginning to knot together as though he was trying to figure her out.

“Shall we…?” he asked, gesturing toward the gate.

Fearing that he, like Marilla, might actually be able to deduce what it was that was making her so uncomfortable, Anne quickly averted her eyes before bounding down the porch steps and heading towards the direction of the school house.

Anne’s brisk pace was no match for Gilbert’s long legs and he’d caught up to her sooner than she would have liked.

“Slow down! We’ve still got plenty of time,” said Gilbert once he’d reached her side.

 _“_ No one is stopping you from walking slower…” Anne said through gritted teeth.

“And deny you the pleasure of my company? I think not,” he teased.

She rounded on him then, ready for a verbal spar.

“Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say I would very much enjoy the pleasure of _your_ company while we walk to school?” Gilbert said as he saw the fury light in Anne’s eyes. “T-R-U-C-E?”

Anne said nothing, but she begrudgingly slowed her pace, realizing it seemed rather silly to be all but running away from Gilbert when they were going in the same direction anyway.

Now that she’d slowed her pace she fiddled with strap on her book bag, realizing that between Marilla pushing her out the back door, and how quickly she’d come barreling down the dirt path, the strap was dangerously close to coming undone.

“Let me get that for you,” said Gilbert reaching to help once he realized Anne was trying (and failing) to adjust her strap one-handed all while keeping a firm grasp on her lunch with her other hand.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Gilbert,” Anne sighed tiredly.

“I know,” said Gilbert. “Nor do I suppose you really need it. But all just the same…it would be a shame for either your books or whatever Marilla packed you for lunch to today to wind up covered in dirt if they fell.”

This time when he reached out, Anne admitted defeat, handing him her lunch to carry while she made quick work out of adjusting the strap.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me be a proper gentleman and carry this the rest of the way for you, would you?” he said as she reached out to take back her things. “I wouldn’t mind you know.”

“But I would,” Anne replied. “Because—“

“You are perfectly capable of carrying your own things, yes I know,” said Gilbert, tilting his head up to the sky, eyes squinting at the sun.

“Yes, well. I’m not quite sure why you insist on asking if you already know the answer,” Anne said, trailing off. “But I guess I should take comfort in the fact that at least I’ve made myself perfectly clear.”

He shook his head in amusement.

Their fingers brushed and he handed Anne back her things and she shivered, eyes flicking down to his lips just long enough for her to see the ends twitching up into the beginnings of a smile.

 _“_ Speaking of lunch…here,” said Gilbert, reaching into his bag and procuring a large golden apple. “I brought Marilla the red ones because our yellow variety isn’t quite ready— yet save for this one.”

“So?” Anne asked, feigning interest.

“ _So_ …” Gilbert trailed off before before holding the apple out to her. “I thought you might like it.”

Gilbert was gazing at her with soft eyes now, as he sometimes did when they went too long without arguing. Anne wished desperately that he wouldn’t look at her so— she wasn’t sure how long she could take the intensity of his gaze coupled with her racing thoughts and the ghost of the dream she’d woken from this morning.

“You _thought_ , huh?” Anne asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice how the last word came out a bit shaky. “And what is it you _think_ you know Gilbert?”

“About you? I wouldn’t presume to know much, Anne— but I do happen to know that the yellow apples are your favorites, so naturally I couldn’t help thinking of you when I saw one was ready to be picked.”

“Do you think about me often?” Anne asked, blurting out the question before could think better of it.

_Why did you SAY that?! s_ creamed the voice inside Anne’s head as she mentally kicked herself.

Gilbert’s hand that was not holding the apple shot up to the back of his neck, ruffling the hair at the nape. It was a move Anne had come to realize that Gilbert did whenever he was nervous, or didn’t quite know what to say yet.

“Do you think of me?” he asked finally, throwing her own question back at her.

“Of course not,” she lied, turning away from him, deciding to pick up her brisk pace from before. “Don’t be ridiculous, Gilbert!”

“I meant as in when you see something you believe might be of— of interest to me,” clarified Gilbert. “You know, as you might with any other friend if you spotted something that reminded you of them…?”

“I suppose I can’t deny that I have thought of Diana while spotting something she might like in town,” said Anne, conceding. “Why just last weekend while Matthew and I were at the shops, I saw some lovely hair ribbons in the most scrumptious shade of pink— oh, they would look positively _divine_ set against Diana’s beautiful dark hair. Redheads can’t wear pink, you know— it clashes— though I would positively die if I could…”

Anne, realizing she was rambling, stopped short. Up ahead, the school house was in sight now, and she heaved a sigh of relief, grateful that she’d soon be able to put some much needed distance between herself and the boy to her right.

“But—but just because I might think of my darling bosom friend when coming across something I believe might be of interest to _her,_ doesn’t mean _you_ should presume I might offer you the same courtesy,” she added for emphasis.

Gilbert chuckled at Anne’s reasoning as he rushed to bound up the steps ahead of her and open the door.

His hand was on the door knob now, but when he made no quick haste to open it, Anne sighed exasperatedly, shooting him an annoyed look.

“I wouldn’t ever presume I’d ever be so lucky as to take up precious space in _your_ thoughts, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” said Gilbert.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he finally turned the doorknob and held the door open so she could go in first. And just as she passed him on her way through, Gilbert winked at her, leaving Anne with the now very difficult task of trying to make her way to the desk she shared with Diana _without_ anyone asking why she suddenly looked so flustered.

Anne sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gracious heavenly father when she managed to walk by Josie Pye without the blonde girl picking up on the ridiculous state she was in.

Her dearest bosom friend, however, was much too perceptive to let it slide.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” asked Diana, taking in Anne’s mood as she sat stiffly in her seat.

“I’ll give you three guesses,” seethed Anne as she shot a glare at Gilbert, who was too busy talking to Moody to notice.

—

As soon as class adjourned for the day, Anne said a hasty goodbye to Diana and made a beeline for the coatroom before flying down the dirt path that lead away from the schoolhouse.

When she reached a fork in the road, she took a left hoping that if she took the long way back to Green Gables she might not have to interact with Gilbert Blythe anymore today.

Anne let out a shaky breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding when, after a few minutes of walking, she finally reached the old rustic bridge. She halted her brisk pace then, thinking she might stay here a while to read amidst the afternoon glow.

It was was only after she was seated, back pressed comfortably up against a maple tree that she reached into her book bag, breath catching in her throat as her fingertips brushed not against her well-worn copy of _Jane Eyre_ , but against something cool to the touch and round in shape.

She knew what it was before she pulled it out, but the sight of the perfectly ripe yellow apple grasped in her hand still caused her skin to pebble despite the warm weather.

And as she stared at the fruit she held in the palm of her hand she knew there was an inconvenient truth she couldn’t deny any longer.

And the truth was that she, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, was begrudgingly smitten with one, Gilbert Blythe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know I said this was only going to be two chapters but Anne needed more time so...

For a while as Anne sat by the bridge that first afternoon— pretending to read, but really being lost in thought— she was foolish enough to assume that perhaps accepting the fact that she’d somehow managed to develop an unfortunate crush on Gilbert Blythe might help ease her suffering.

That perhaps being honest with herself about her feelings might stop her heart from racing the way it did now whenever they locked eyes. Or that maybe it would suppress the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach now whenever Gilbert stood too close while they were working together on the school newspaper.

Admitting defeat, however, had done nothing of the sort. Instead it had the opposite effect of stoking the fire— a fire that now raged so persistently, Anne was afraid she’d never be able to stifle the flames no matter what she threw at them.

The fire, in turn, did nothing to help her racing thoughts. In fact, now it seemed as though both were working together to make Anne’s life miserable— if this was her reward for giving herself leeway to long for Gilbert, then Anne felt as though she would have been better off living in denial.

Smitten, Anne thought a few days after The Incident had occurred, was not a good look on her.

But given that she was stuck feeling this way until her newfound fondness for Gilbert faded, Anne found herself wishing the emotion suited her better.

She thought of the way Ruby’s cheeks had a knack for turning a pretty shade of rose, eyes going wide and wistful whenever she spoke of a boy she fancied….Anne wished she wore smitten well the way Ruby did…

She and Ruby were sitting side by side at lunch the next time she saw the girl’s eye’s gloss over with adoration— this time, as she waxed poetic about Moody’s musical talents as she watched him idly strumming away on his banjo in the corner.

"How can you bear it?" Anne asked her suddenly.

“Bear what?” asked Ruby in return.

"Feeling this way all the time..." said Anne, trailing off.

She shifted then, turning her body fully toward Ruby now. For a moment Anne's eyes focused on Gilbert, who was sat just up ahead studying medical texts through their break. She forced her eyes back over to Ruby’s face before she continued.

"How can you bear to like someone so much without even knowing if they like you back?"

"Anne...." Ruby started, a knowing smile beginning to bloom on her face. "Are you suggesting that you, yourself, might be suffering with matters of the heart?"

"Of course not!" Anne replied rather too quickly. "I only mean that the whole ordeal seems so…inconvenient."

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert thinks romance to be inconvenient? I never thought I’d see the day,” Ruby replied, suppressing a giggle. “Whatever happened to your desperate desire for a tragical romance?”

"it's just that this whole liking someone business-- it feels more like a cursed burden than anything else!” Anne said suddenly. "That--that is to say, that after giving the matter some thought, I _imagine_ it _would_ feel like more of a cursed burden."

"Oh, but it's not Anne," sighed Ruby, paying no mind to the fact that Anne had almost blurted out her secret. "It's simply wonderful-- you'll see someday!"

Anne made no effort to continue the conversation at hand. She appreciated Ruby’s attempt at reassurance, though she herself could not imagine a scenario wherein liking Gilbert the way she did _wouldn’t_ feel so uncomfortably all-consuming.

Moreover, she was still perplexed as to how Ruby managed to live in a state of constant infatuation— being smitten was ever so exhausting!

It was worse at night where, in the dark of her room, she found herself with nothing to distract her from the persistent haunting of a kiss that wasn’t even real to begin with.

The dream she’d had weeks ago still terrified her but no longer because she found the idea preposterous. Instead, the fantasy ate away at her because she was terrified about the prospect of living with longing forever— terrified over the very real possibility that she might never know what it would be like to feel the weight of Gilbert’s hand in her hand, or feel the press of his lips against her lips.

The fact that restless sleep was yet another unfortunate side effect was made all the more apparent when about a week later, she showed up to school only to find Diana fretting over her like a mother hen.

“I’m perfectly fine, Diana— I promise,” Anne mumbled.

“Are you sure?” Her friend replied.

“Of course— why would you think otherwise?”

“Well…it’s just that you don’t look as well rested as you normally do,” Diana said slowly. “Also, you seem to have buttoned your dress up a bit crooked today.”

A look of horror flashed over Anne’s features as she reached towards the buttons on her clothes, desperately grasping at them to see if she could fix her error without accidentally exposing herself.

“It’s okay, Anne— I’m sure no one’s seen,” said Diana quickly as she noticed the desperation in her friend’s eyes. “Here— let me help set it right— no one will even know.”

Her friend made quick work of Anne’s button fiasco before proclaiming her appearance to be perfect.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Diana asked again. “If it’s a secret, you know I’d never tell another soul.”

Anne smiled, grateful yet again for the fact that Diana was a true kindred spirit in every sense of the word.

“Oh, my darling Diana— I'm not sure what I ever did to deserve a friend like you," said Anne, linking arms with the girl as they made their way up the steps and into the classroom. "I promise if there’s anything wrong you’ll be the first to know.”

The rest of the school day passed fairly uneventfully until the very end when Miss Stacy proclaimed that Anne had earned the top score on last week’s mathematics test.

Anne was was packing up in the coat room, feeling quite pleased with her marks, when a familiar presence caused a pleasant shiver to run down her spine. She busied herself with bundling up for the cold weather that lay beyond the classroom door— torn between hoping Gilbert would pass without paying her any mind, and wishing he’d notice her.

“Congratulations,” he said just as Anne was beginning to wrap a scarf around her neck.

"Thanks" she replied, turning to meet Gilbert’s eyes, scarf ends lying limp and forgotten down her front.

“Guess I’ll just have to study harder next time if I want to beat you,” Gilbert quipped, smiling warmly at her.

“Guess you will...” Anne murmured back.

The quiet moment was interrupted when a gust of wind billowed in as one of their classmates opened the front door to leave.

Anne felt the chilly air whip her scarf back and away from her front. She watched as the colorful garb flapped around in the air for just a moment before Gilbert leaned towards her.

“Whoops!” he said, catching the scarf swiftly in his outstretched hand before it blew away.

Anne held her palm out, waiting for him to hand it back. Instead, her breath caught in her throat as Gilbert stepped closer, looping the scarf around her neck himself.

She was vaguely aware of a quiet voice in the back of her head— one that sternly warned her that that letting Gilbert fix her scarf probably wasn't proper behavior. The voice sounded uncannily like Marilla's— which should have been enough to strike fear into Anne's heart— only at the moment, Anne found herself too transfixed on the boy in front of her to give propriety any mind.

From this close she was free to study the features on his face she’d never noticed before— had his eyes always had those little flecks of gold in them? Had there always been a tiny freckle at the corner of his mouth?

“Can’t have you catching a cold and falling behind on your school work....” said Gilbert, his voice pulling Anne halfway back to reality.

His nimble fingers made quick work of the fabric in his hands as he expertly knotted the scarf snugly at the base of Anne’s neck. He gave the scarf a gentle tug before dropping his hands back down to hang at his sides.

“I’m only interested in beating you if I do it fair and square, you see,” Gilbert added, eyes finally lifting to meet hers.

“Gilbert, I....” Anne started to say, voice trailing off quietly as she struggled to find words.

“Yes?” He breathed, eyebrows knotting together in anticipation.

“Anne! Do you still want to walk home together ?”

Diana’s voice calling to her from outside caused Anne to stumble back.

"I-- I have to go!" Anne said, eyes wide as she backed away from Gilbert and hightailed it out of the school house.

She was vaguely aware of Gilbert calling out "See you!" as she rushed to where Diana stood at the edge of the walking path.

"Did you need to speak with Gilbert longer?" Diana asked as Anne drew near. "I don't mind walking alone if that's the case."

"Nope! Let's go!" Anne exclaimed a little too loudly, ushering Diana swiftly down the path as quickly as she could.

Diana shot her a funny look but Anne evaded further questions by asking her friend if she'd made any headway on convincing her mother to let her sit for the Queens' entrance exam.

This resulted in Diana launching into a long rant about how unfair it was that her mother was determined to ship Diana off to finishing school in Paris as soon as possible.

Anne thought herself a terrible friend for her inability to focus on the conversation at hand as her brain struggled to keep its attention on Diana. They were closer to home than they were to school now, but to Anne, it felt as though her mind was still back in the coat room with Gilbert Blythe and his stupid gold flecked eyes-- _and_ his stupid hands, and the way those stupid hands tugged at her scarf (not unlike the way that these days, the very thought of him seemed to tug incessantly at her heart….)

_Why did he have to be so...so_ **_Gilbert_** _ALL THE TIME?_ Anne wondered to herself, completely tuned out of whatever Diana had been saying.

Her chest filled with dread then, as she thought of how she must have looked like such a fool, staring at him gobsmacked toward the end, unable to form words— speechless for probably the first time in her life.

Anne stopped walking, pinching the bridge of her nose, willing the embarrassing memory to go away. And then, fueled by an overwhelming urge to release some of the pent up emotion she’d been bottling up during what had felt like the longest week of her life, Anne unceremoniously blurted out the truth.

“I’m in love with Gilbert Blythe!” The words tumbled out of her lips before she could think twice about them.

Diana, who hadn't realized that her friend had no longer been walking just behind her whipped around then, eyes landing on Anne who was standing there-- eyes wide, hands over her mouth as though covering it might be enough to stuff the words she’d just uttered back down her throat.

Both girls stood there staring at each other for a moment, Anne's eyes still as wide as they'd been after confessing, Diana's searching her friend's face for something that might help her decide how to proceed.

"Are you sure?" Diana said finally, breaking the silence.

Anne slowly removed her hands from her mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Diana took her hand then, leading a slightly shell-shocked Anne over to a nearby log.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Diana asked once they were both seated.

It was all the encouragement Anne needed, and before she knew it, everything came spilling out (save for maybe a few choice specifics from the dream that had been the catalyst to this whole mess.)

She heaved a sigh of relief when it was over, and for the first time since she'd started her confession, Anne flicked her eyes over to her best friend.

"Well?" Anne prompted when Diana still did not speak.

"Are you going to tell him?" Diana asked finally.

"I don't know," Anne said, eyes looking off into the distance. "I could barely string two words together this afternoon-- oh god, Diana-- it was _so_ embarrassing!"

"I'm sure Gilbert didn't notice," Diana assured. "Maybe you could write him a letter expressing your feelings?"

"Maybe..." Anne said, lost in thought. "Diana?"

"Yes, Anne?"

"What if..." Anne paused for a moment, before meeting her friend's gaze. "What if Gilbert doesn't feel the same?"

"But what if he does?"Diana countered. “It seems to me as though if there’s even a small chance he does, it’s worth taking the risk— promise you'll consider it?"

Anne was quiet then, turning Diana's advice over in her brain for a bit before finally settling on a response.

“Okay…I’ll consider it,” she promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed chapter 2! 
> 
> And thank you SO MUCH to all of you who have left such lovely comments on the first chapter! I posted this story (that I honestly didn't even plan on writing) on a total whim-- not expecting anyone at all to read it-- so the fact that so many of you *have* read it and are enjoying it gives me ALL the warm fuzzies. :)
> 
> Third and final chapter coming soon-ish! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: there are four lines towards the middle of this chapter that I wrote first-- never thought those four sentences would turn into 10K+ words, but here we are!

When Anne had found herself promising Diana she’d consider confessing her feelings to Gilbert, she did so knowing full well that she was leaning towards never actually following through with it. As the days passed though, Anne found herself mulling over Diana’s words more and more…

_But what if he does?_ Diana’s voice poked and prodded in her head. _It seems as though if there’s even a chance he does, it’s worth taking the risk…_

She wasn’t sure if Diana was aware, but with or without meaning to, Anne’s best friend had given her a wonderful gift: she’d given her the gift of hope— the ability to see through the foggy, convoluted mist of her mind and grasp on to a glimmer of possibility (however faint it might be) that Gilbert maybe could feel the same way.

And that tiny glimmer of hope was more than enough to flip a switch inside of Anne’s brain.

The idea of possibility exhilarated her— and did wonders to help combat the incessant crushing feeling she’d been enduring over the past few weeks. Whereas before Anne’s thoughts were filled with dread over the idea that she was doomed to die alone— wasting away with nothing but her unrequited love for Gilbert Blythe for company— now her thoughts were filled with swoon-worthy scenarios of what it might be like to be loved back.

Daydreaming of requited love, Anne thought to herself as the days went on, was much better than resigning oneself to crushing heartache. Maybe that’s what Ruby had meant when she had insisted that being smitten was wonderful…

Her frequent reveries would find Anne calling to mind images of she and Gilbert doing the most mundane things— reading by the fire, with him leaning back against the couch and Anne comfortably resting against his chest…baking biscuits and pies for Marilla and Matthew and Bash and Delphine at Green Gables, bodies brushing as she reached for the flour, or he for the sugar…trips to the seaside, walking hand in hand, warm sand squishing between their toes…

Imagining domestic bliss _was_ rather scrumptious, but daydreaming about stolen moments? That was Anne’s favorite— of fingers grazing not-so-accidentally against the back of hands when they passed each other in church…of Gilbert drawing her into his strong arms when they found themselves with a spare moment alone…she’d think of the way she’d tuck her head under his marvelous chin…of being so close she could hear his heart thumping away in his chest…of how she and Gilbert would dare to hold each other for just a moment longer than they should despite the risk of getting caught… 

Sometimes (okay, maybe fairly regularly) she’d daydream about the secret kisses they’d share if she were Gilbert’s and Gilbert was hers-- quick ones, lingering ones, longing ones…in her dreams, she and Gilbert had shared kisses all across the whole of Avonlea— from deep in the stables at Green Gables, all the way to the base of that spectacular cherry tree by the train station she’d marveled at the first day she'd come to town.

Once at school, Anne even imagined sneaking a stolen kiss in the classroom’s supply cupboard— eyes staring off into space and Miss Stacy’s voice fading into white noise as she let her imagination take over…

_“Alright, class— clear your desks— it’s time for today’s science lesson,” Miss Stacy would announce. “Gilbert, Anne, if you would be so kind as to go into the supply closet and retrieve the materials I’ve left there for the demonstration while I pass some reading material out.”_

_Anne would stand from the desk she shared with Diana and head towards the small room, hyperaware of Gilbert walking just a step behind her…_

_“After you…” he’d say, reaching out ahead of them to open the door for Anne, who in turn would shoot him a secret smile as she passed._

_She’d pick up one of two boxes Miss Stacy had set aside for the day’s experiment, and turn to find the door had mysteriously closed behind them…_

_And before she could make to open it, Gilbert would pull her back with a soft tug on her elbow._

_“You’ve got something on your face,” he’d whisper. “Right about here…”_

_He’d kiss her then— just a sweet little peck on the lips, and Anne would scold him for being so bold, all while secretly being pleased that Gilbert just couldn’t help himself…_

_“You’re incorrigible, Gilbert Blythe— what if we’d gotten caught?”_

_“We might still if you don’t stop blushing so furiously,” he’d tease, before leading the way back out the door and into the classroom…._

Anne, completely lost in her daydream, had missed the fact that Miss Stacy had been trying to call her up to the front of class to solve a geometry problem on the blackboard.

She rushed forward as quickly as she could and then, with chalk in hand, solved the equation carefully under the eagle-eyed watch of Miss Stacy.

“Very good,” said the teacher after Anne was finished. “You can take your seat now, Anne…”

Anne breathed a sigh of relief as she waked back to her desk.

“Though I implore you to save the daydreaming for after class,” Miss Stacy added.

A handful of her classmates snickered, prompting Anne’s cheeks to flush (for real this time).

After that, she made a solemn vow to herself that she would limit the times in which shefantasized about Gilbert Blythe to more prudent hours— like while she was doing her chores, or to just before she drifted off to sleep.

Daydreaming about Gilbert did wonders to soothe her aching heart, but it didn’t do much to quell Anne’s incessant curiosity. And it wasn’t long before Anne found herself obsessing over what it would feel like-- really feel like— to kiss Gilbert with abandon.

Would his lips be soft and pliant? Would they be gentle, but firm? Would he taste sweet like the apples he and Bash grew in the orchard?

 _That is the crux of having so much scope for the imagination,_ Anne thought as she traipsed through the Haunted Wood— that her knack for imagining the most wondrous scenarios made it so she couldn’t quite feel completely satisfied until she’d settled on every last detail. And the problem with Gilbert Blythe, was that the very idea of him was supplying Anne with a seemingly infinite number of possibilities, which in turn made it impossible for her to come to a conclusion that seemed to fit just right…

The old story club was nothing but ruins now, but Anne sometimes still came her to think.

She tiptoed through the scraps of wood that had previously stood in the shape of four walls, and in between the shards of clay that had once held together in the shapes of Cole’s spectacular sculptures. There wasn’t much left to destroy (Billy Andrews had made sure of that) but even so, Anne moved carefully through the debris so as not to cause more damage to a place that still felt as though it held so much magic.

The ends of a long birds feather caught her eye as the toe of her boot kicked up some foliage. She picked it up, running her fingers through the soft plumes before gently twirling it between her thumb and forefinger.

The object brought to mind a memory of sitting in a circle with the other girls back at Green Gables as they took turns trying to keep a much smaller feather afloat using only the gentlest of breaths.

_Why must the girl wait for the boy? If I wanted to kiss a boy couldn't I just...kiss him?_

Her own words from that very day ricochetted around her head, causing Anne to huff exasperatedly at her own foolishness.

At the time she'd truly believed the bold statement that she'd made (despite the protest of Diana, Ruby, Jane, and Tilly)— but that was before she had anyone she even remotely _wanted_ to kiss herself.

And now that she did? Well the actual execution of how to go about touching her face to another human's seemed far easier said than done.

For a moment, she entertained the idea of being brave enough to run straight over to the Blythe-Lacroix property.

Gilbert would be working in the orchards, no doubt taking advantage of what was left of daylight before the sun set.

She’d march right over, tap him on the shoulder, and when he'd undoubtedly turn around, pegging her with one of those insufferable looks that once caused her irritation but now made her knees buckle, she'd say something like, "I hope you won't think me terribly rude for saying this, but I'd quite like to kiss you right now.”

Then, before Gilbert could say anything at all, she’d swoop in and touch her lips to his.

_If I wanted to kiss a boy couldn't I just...kiss him?_

She was so lost in the memory of her own words that she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

“What _is_ this place?”

The familiar voice startled Anne out of her thoughts, reflexes kicking in as she whipped around to meet the voice’s owner. She felt her foot catch between two stray pieces of wood and instantly wished she’d been more careful, crumpling to the floor as her ankle twisted unpleasantly.

Anne yelped, squeezing her eyes shut tight as pain throbbed both in her ankle and in one knee, which had connected hard with something sharp on the forest floor.

She was vaguely aware of the voice crying out her name in worry, and when she opened her eyes, Gilbert Blythe was right there in front of her.

“Ow…” she said unceremoniously as she watched his worried eyes search her face.

“Oh, Anne— I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you— I just…”

“It’s fine, Gilbert— let me just….” Anne moved to try and stand, but stumbled as a sharp pain shot up her leg.

“Here,” said Gilbert, looping an arm around around her. “Don’t put any weight on that until I get a good look at it.”

Normally, Anne would have put up a bit more of a fight, but she realized rather quickly that Gilbert was in Doctor Blythe mode and so she thought it best to just let him carry on with his diagnosis.

Supporting her weight so as not to make her injury worse, Gilbert lead Anne away from the story club ruins and over to a large rock, helping her sit before he began assessing the damage.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked, gently

“Um…it’s my right ankle mostly— I think I twisted it,” Anne said, casting her gaze down toward the injury. She took in a rip in her skirt just across where her knee would be bent had she not had it extended out in front of her. “And…and my knee. I must have banged it pretty hard on the way down.”

Gilbert nodded, eyes trailing down toward the rip Anne was looking at. He fell to his knees then, hands reaching toward her injured leg, pausing suddenly, eyes flicking back up to hers as his fingers hovered near the bottom of Anne’s dress.

“Begging your pardon, but…is it…can I…?” He trailed off, soft eyes never straying from hers, steady and sure as though with his unwavering gaze he was imploring Anne to trust him to do what he did not put into words.

A hint of pink bloomed across the apples of Gilbert’s cheeks and suddenly, the realization of what he was asking permission for hit Anne like a ton of bricks. She swallowed thickly and, not trusting herself to form coherent words, nodded her head in consent.

She stared at his hands long enough to see Gilbert’s fingers take hold of the edges of her skirts before she averted her gaze up towards the sky. Anne sent out a silent prayer then— both to the gracious heavenly father above, and to every god, goddess, and saint she’d ever read about— begging them to help her control the blush that was already creeping across her cheeks as she felt Gilbert gently lift her dress up until the material was bunched up at her thighs.

“Well, looks like you scraped your knee up pretty bad,” said Gilbert, drawing Anne’s attention from the canopy of branches she’d been staring at and down to where her stocking had split, frayed edges caked in her own blood. “Nothing we can’t fix though…”

Gilbert reached into his book bag and procured a canteen of water, which he used to clean the wound, before taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapping it around Anne’s knee as a makeshift bandage.

“There,” he said, smiling up at Anne. “Good as new— now, let’s see about that ankle.”

“Thanks Doctor Blythe,” Anne teased.

“Well, I’m not a doctor quite yet…” said Gilbert as he made quick work of taking off her boot before lifting Anne’s leg.

“Let me know when you feel any pain or discomfort,” he said, fingers carefully probing against different parts of Anne’s foot.

He ducked his head to get a closer look at her swollen ankle and Anne shivered as she felt the ends of Gilbert’s hair brush deliciously against the inside of her knee.

“Still tender?”He asked.

“Yes,” she lied, knowing full well it wasn’t Gilbert’s hands that had caused her body to tremble.

“The good news is, nothing’s broken— all just the same though…” said Gilbert as he made to stand.

Anne watched on perplexed, wondering why on earth Gilbert was currently making quick work out of untucking his shirt from his trousers.

“What are you doing?!” she cried, as Gilbert swiftly tore off a long, thin strip of material from the bottom portion of his shirt.

“Well, we’ve got to wrap your ankle with _something_ ,” said Gilbert simply. “It’s likely just sprained, but I’ll feel much better about it once it’s wrapped up nice and tight."

“I understand,” said Anne evenly (even though she really didn’t). “But surely we could have found something else to wrap it with other than your shirt— it’s ruined now.”

“I have others,” shrugged Gilbert as he knelt before her again, once more taking her foot in his hands. “Besides, at least my shirt died for a worthy cause.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad my clumsiness made me a good practice dummy for your medical training,” quipped Anne. “Perhaps I’ll consider it my contribution to your future endeavors."

“As much as I appreciate you trying to help me work towards my dreams of becoming a doctor, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist you try and be more careful,” Gilbert replied. “I’d rather not have to do this again.”

She paused to watch as he expertly tied the bandage at the base of her shin before he busied himself with getting her shoe back on.

“Right, of course,” Anne said after a moment. “I expect soon you’ll be far too busy to patch me up the next time I fancy trying to get better acquainted with the ground.”

Gilbert laughed, and Anne was certain the the sheer sound of it made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ll never be too busy to patch _you_ up. I just meant that I’d prefer you try and be more careful because I’d much rather have you stay unscathed and in once piece,” said Gilbert as he brought Anne’s dress back down from where it had been folded over on her thighs.

He rested his hands gently on both of her knees then, careful not to put much pressure on the one he’d bandaged.

“I don’t think I could bear it if I ever saw you truly injured, Anne-girl,” said Gilbert quietly, eyes boring into hers.

_Anne-girl._

He’d never called her that before.

And maybe it was the way that he'd said it— with the same sort of loving care he’d been using to tend to her wounds right there in the Haunted Wood. Maybe it was the way that he was looking at her, hazel eyes swimming with an indescribable emotion she couldn’t quite place. Or maybe it was simply because Anne had spent the better part of three weeks desperately longing for Gilbert and just couldn’t take it anymore.

Maybe it was all the reasons all rolled into one. And maybe that was why, before Anne herself even realized what she was doing, she found herself leaning forward and softly pressing her lips to his.

Gilbert’s sharp intake of breath had Anne pulling back almost as quickly as she’d leaned in, and the reality of what she’d just done suddenly made her blood run cold.

“I’m sorry!” she said, fingers reflexively coming up to touch her tingling lips.

When Gilbert said nothing, Anne couldn’t restrain herself from launching into an unfiltered rant— words tumbling from her lips at such an impressive speed, it was a miracle Gilbert could keep up at all…

“It’s just that you’re so _lovely_ and I couldn’t help it, and I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to figure out how to _stop loving you_ but I just can’t— I _can’t,_ Gilbert— I’ve tried. I’ve been trying _so_ hard. I always thought that if I set my mind to do something— _really_ set my mind to it— I could in fact do the very thing I was trying so hard to do, but apparently that rule just doesn’t apply to _you_ , and I _know_ that confessing my feelings for you doesn’t excuse my actions— it doesn’t make it _right_ — but it’s the truth, and I feel as though I owe you at least that much. I don’t even know why I did it to be honest— I’ll surely regret it for the rest of my days— I guess I just…I just…”

Anne trailed off as though she’d finally done what the matron at the orphanage had always said she would and talked herself plumb out of words.

“You…just…?” Gilbert prompted.

Anne cast her eyes down to her lap as if her hands, which she’d been wringing nervously over the course of her entire rant, were the most interesting thing in the world. It had been easy to hold Gilbert’s gaze in earnest when she’d been talking so fast she could barely understand what it was she was even trying to say herself. But she couldn’t bear to give him the same courtesy for this next bit.

“I just…needed to know what it would feel like— just _once_ ,” Anne confessed vulnerably. “But I shouldn’t have done it, and I’m so _very_ sorry, Gilbert. And if you want, we can forget this ever happened and never speak of it. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Gilbert said nothing, and the silence was so deafening it made Anne’s eyes water. She pinched her wrist, willing the tears back as she focused intently on the pinprick of pain her fingers were causing and the way the flesh beneath her nails kept turning deeper shades of red.

Her concentration was disrupted by Gilbert’s own hands slowly creeping into her line of vision. They didn’t stop until they’d taken ahold of Anne’s, willing her to stop manipulating the skin she’d been pinching rather forcefully.

Anne watched as one of his thumbs made slow passes over the angry red spot she’d created on her wrist. She didn’t feel as though she was deserving of Gilbert’s kindness right at this very moment, but at the same time she was too selfish to deny herself of it.

“Anne…” whispered Gilbert.

“Yes?” she replied just as quietly, still unable to make eye contact.

“Anne, look at me..."

Anne steadied herself, summoning all the courage she could muster, before finally lifting her eyes up to meet his.

"Anne-girl, you are the fond object of my affection and my desire," Gilbert said ardently. "Do you know how long I've been desperately hoping you might have feelings for me?"

"What?" Anne croaked, her brain still trying to wrap itself around Gilbert’s profession.

Then it was Gilbert who was leaning in and kissing her with so much fervor it left Anne feeling breathless as her heart hammered away in her chest. And the last coherent thought Anne had before her mind went blissfully blank was that Gilbert was more than worth the mixed bag of emotions she’d been lugging around like a deadweight over the past few weeks, because she was so irrevocably in love with him.

And also because by some strangely beautiful miracle, Gilbert loved her too-- and the knowledge of that felt even better than anything she could have ever dreamt up orimagined...

\--

It was a long while before Gilbert finally pulled away and though Anne was pretty sure she could have carried on kissing him forever, her lungs were certainly grateful for the reprieve.

She sighed contently as Gilbert's forehead bent to rest against hers, relishing in the closeness.

"How long?"he asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Earlier when you were explaining-- you said you'd been driving yourself crazy trying to figure out how to stop loving me," said Gilbert. "I was just wondering how long you've felt this way."

"Three weeks--well, consciously-- I expect I've been loving you _subconsciously_ for much longer than that," said Anne through a giggle. "You?"

"I feel like I've been loving you my whole life," said Gilbert earnestly.

"Impossible-- I only came to Avonlea a few years ago— you’ve lived longer without my presence than with it," Anne countered.

"Oh, but you see, Carrots, I'm fairly certain I only _thought_ I was living before when in reality, I think my life only really started the day we met."

"You've known since that day in the forest when you asked me if I had any dragons that needed slaying?" she asked, brows raised in slight disbelief.

"I knew I _liked_ you then," Gilbert said, unabashedly. "But I knew I _loved_ you the moment you smacked me across the face with your chalkboard."

Anne laughed, letting her head drop to his shoulder as her cheeks flushed at the memory of how awful she'd been to him.

"That first day....when you came out to bring me that apple at lunch?" Anne began.

“I remember…” Gilbert said, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple.

"I wanted to take it-- to talk to you-- to be friends," she confessed.

"Why didn't you?"

"Some stupid rule about dibs-- seems silly now,"said Anne, playing with the collar on his shirt. "I wish I had though. I could have saved us both so much heartache.…”

"It doesn't matter," said Gilbert, tracing the freckles on her cheek with gentle fingers. "We're here now. Although, I feel I must warn you-- now that I've got you, I hope you know I don't have any intentions of letting you go."

"I like the sound of that." Anne smiled.

He dropped a quick kiss to her lips and Anne thought that perhaps Gilbert had planned to pick up where they'd left off. Which is why she was incredibly surprised when he stood, dusting the dirt from his trousers before moving to help her up as well.

“Come on,” he said, mindful of Anne's injured leg as he looped an arm around her waist.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“We’re going to find Matthew and Marilla,” said Gilbert simply.

Anne dug her good foot into the ground, effectively stopping Gilbert from going further. 

“I have no idea why you’re thinking of them at a time like this— as much as I love them both,” said Anne, snaking her arms around his waist as she stepped closer. “I think I’d much rather stay out here with you…”

She stood on her tip toes then, emphasizing her words with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth— thrilled over the realization that she could do that whenever she wantedto now.

Unable to resist, Gilbert kissed her back for a moment before begrudgingly pulling away once more.

“As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I’m afraid I must insist we go and find your parents,” he said.

Realizing that for whatever reason Gilbert would not be deterred, Anne gave in and allowed him to continue helping her down the path toward home.

“So, are you going to tell me why it’s so important we go and find Matthew and Marilla right at this moment?”

"Like I said, now that I’ve got you I have no intentions of ever letting you go,” said Gilbert, smiling. “And even though I’d be more than happy to throw propriety out the window and marry you right now, I have a sneaking suspicion the Cuthberts wouldn’t ever agree to that. So...I figured we’d better do this right.”

Gilbert stared at her then, eyes searching Anne's face for a moment as though trying to gauge the effect his talk of marriage had had on her. Once satisfied that Anne did not seem to be running for the hills as fast as her injured ankle would allow, he took her hands in his and continued.

“I intend to ask Marilla and Matthew for permission to court you-- as soon as we graduate from Avonlea if possible....” Gilbert said slowly. “That is…if you’ll allow me to court you, Anne?”

Anne said nothing, instead lifting their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of his. It was all the assurance Gilbert needed to know that her answer was yes.

"In that case, we'd better hurry back-- I expect we'll have better luck if Marilla isn't cross over the fact that I'm not back in time to help out with dinner," said Anne, beaming up at him.

"Guess I'd better make quick work of getting you home then," Gilbert replied.

Anne barely had time to register the impish grin on his face before Gilbert swiftly scooped her up off of her feet and into his arms.

"Gilbert!" Anne yelped in shock, arms clinging to his neck.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"I _can_ still walk you know!" Anne said, wriggling in his arms.

"Of course," he said, tightening his hold. "But I _did_ say I was going to make quick work of getting you home-- even you can't deny this'll be much quicker."

"Well... alright then," Anne surrendered. "But just this once!"

"Just this once..." Gilbert appeased before finally setting off in the direction of Green Gables.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

Years later, after Anne had finished her studies at Redmond, the happy couple found themselves back in Avonlea. Gilbert had asked Anne to marry him just the day before and to celebrate their engagement, he’d proposed an afternoon outing— just the two of them.

“I thought it might be a nice day for a picnic,” he said, leading Anne up a grassy slope.

Gilbert dropped Anne’s hand once they reached the top, setting out the blanket he’d brought to make sure Anne had somewhere to sit before he busied himself with pulling food out of the basket he’d been carrying.

Anne was quiet as she watched Gilbert set up the spread, eyes glancing around at the spot he’d picked, wondering why it looked so familiar when suddenly it came to her.

It wasn't until Gilbert was seated beside her that he noticed Anne sitting stiffly as a blush creeped across her face.

“What is it?” He asked curiously.

“Nothing— it’s just…never mind— it’s nothing!”

“Anne…” Gilbert started, "You know if you don't tell me I'll just assume the worst and fret over you for days..."

"Promise you won't laugh?"

Gilbert mimed crossing his heart, eyes urging her to continue.

"Well, you see, the thing is..."

And so it was that Anne told Gilbert about the dream she'd had of the two of them— set in this very field— all those years ago. She peeked over at Gilbert once she was finished and he cocked his head to the side in return as though deep in contemplation.

“Fine, I take it back— you can laugh if you want to,” said Anne, more to break the silence than anything else.

Gilbert didn’t laugh though— instead, quick as a cat, he pounced, pulling her towards him before reclining into the grass.

Anne let out an undignified squeak and Gilbert an “oof!” as she landed a little too hard on top of him.

“Serves you right!” Anne huffed, swatting at his chest but making no move to get off.

“An elbow to the ribs is small price to pay if it means turning your dreams into reality,” he replied, throwing in a wink for good measure.

"Is _that_ what you're on about?" Anne laughed.

"Well, I figured it's the least I could do..." Gilbert replied.

He rolled them over then, (carefully) so he was braced above Anne, before swooping down to kiss her thoroughly.

“So, Carrots…” Gilbert murmured some time later, brushing a loose red strand of hair away from her face. “Did I live up to the version of me in your dreams?”

“No,” whispered Anne, tangling her fingers into his dark curls and drawing his mouth back down to hers. “You’re even better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there she is-- the third and final chapter! 
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait if you've been following along since the beginning-- and that it serves as a satisfying conclusion whether you've been keeping tabs on my story for the past few weeks, or just stumbled upon it now. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and kudos-ing and commenting! It's been so much fun to flex my fanfic writing muscles again. I'm not sure what's next (if anything at all), but I appreciate each and every one of you reading this for coming along on this journey with me! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading (and thanks in advance if you are kind enough to leave a comment or kudos!) 
> 
> Second and final chapter coming soon-ish, so I hope you'll stick around for that! :)


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